


Wilted Flora

by Cvy



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Swapfell, This Was Sitting In My Docs Folder For TWO YEARS, You Died, hhhhhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 02:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cvy/pseuds/Cvy
Summary: Long live the Queen.





	Wilted Flora

You hated this place. 

Your body stumbled along the path and you feared that each step would be your last. You wanted to scream, to sleep, to eat. None of the food you’d stolen had made a dent in your growing appetite. Your hand clutched your chest, just above your soul. The skin was decorated with murky splashes of yellow, purple, and green. The bruises had grown each time your soul was wrenched away, refusing to heal. As if sensing your focus, your soul slammed against your ribcage, lurching your body forward. You barely avoided contact with the ground. You slammed your body against the nearest wall for support.

Your hands clawed at the offending area, as you struggled to get air in your lungs. The fits were getting worse. They had begun with a subtle tug, which turned into an uncomfortable pull, which then evolved into the shaky lurches that left you a trembling mess. The air only served to make it worse. You couldn’t breathe down here. The dust in the air was thick. It mixed with your exhaustion and burned at your throat. And on every inhale, your throat caught and you were assaulted by uncontrollable wheezing. 

You struggled to regain your balance as you removed yourself from the wall. Your bare feet ached with each slap against the cold floors. Abandoning your shoes in the spider’s lair was the hardest decision you had to make. The heat of Hotland’s ground had penetrated through the heavy material of your boots, providing protection but no comfort. In the end, you found bare feet more attractive than a hollow body. 

You were so close. Your steps slowed as you reached large double doors. They were painted blood red, just like everything else in this place. You pushed your weight against it and your muscles burned in protest. The sound of stone sliding solidified your resolve. Beyond this door lied your salvation, freedom or death. You stepped through the threshold. 

The scene before you was tragically beautiful. The walls of the room had been overtaken by time. The brick was cracked and the paint peeled from the walls. Discolorations that could only be caused by dust had taken the place of whatever color that had previously graced the walls. Stained glass shards and dead flowers littered the ground. The roots of the flora protruded from cracks in the dusty black tiles. In the middle of the room was a lone throne, illuminated by silver light. 

It was huge, even if three copies of yourself sat side by side, they wouldn’t fill the chair. The soft yellows and vibrant reds of the glass shone onto the grand, wooden frame. Remnants of its former glory could be seen in the delicate engravings dusted with chipped gold plating. The arms of the chair were disfigured, crushed by a great force. Your eyes shifted upwards and you halted. 

A stained glass mural was attached to the ceiling, in it, you could make out four humanoid shapes. Two, you assumed were children, their striped, red and black sweaters told you that much. Above them stood two towering figures. Their colors matched the children’s. Both wore tunics but one stood out from the rest. The faces were all missing save for one. A white, horned figure, standing tall with crimson gems for eyes. You felt the burn of their gaze. The King of Monsters. 

Your wonder died as you remembered your purpose. Advancing, you paid no mind to the glass piercing your feet or the dust that stuck to your bloodied soles.

You really should have been more careful.

Halfway to the throne, a chill speared through you. Different from the jarring sensation of your soul jerking your forward, you felt no pain. Yet, somehow, this was much, much worse. Your pupils dilated and the hair on your arms stood true. Magic vibrated through the air causing your vision to blur. From behind the throne, a figure emerged. It rose and rose until the large throne looked small. Even with its back turned away you could see the gnarled horns that protruded from the creature's skull. Its inky black locks hung to the shoulders. 

You froze. 

The monster turned its head to the side and sniffed. You caught a glimpse of a long white snout and a wicked smile.

“Who’s there?” his voice had a timber that made your legs shake with fear. The monster huffed when silence was all that answered. He shifted to face you, ruby red eyes and yellowing smile glowing in silver light. “Come now, I don’t bite,” he paused, considering “usually.” the smile in his voice was palpable. Your body strained to keep your breathing steady. You felt your chest begin to heat and your soul pulsed.

You slowly lowered your knees to the ground, careful not to disturb the silence any more than you had. Grabbing a broken piece of tile, you were prepared to throw it opposite of you when you heard the air around you shift. A flash of red whizzed by and you threw yourself back, arms shielding your face. Shards of broken glass pierced your skin. 

“I knew I wasn’t imagining things.” with each step he made, you forced your body to stay still. The tremble of the ground became stronger and stronger as he came closer and closer. Your mind struggled to accept that he couldn’t see you. You tried, at least, but your will faltered. A red trident. A huge, red trident was lodged into the ground, not an arm's length from your head.

He couldn’t see you. 

Your body screamed for you to run as he stopped in front of you.

The King was blind.

He knelt down until he was level with you. Somehow, though, it made you feel even smaller. You could feel the heat of his breath of your face. Eyes watering, you stifled a gag.

 

Wasn’t he? 

The king’s smile grew impossibly wide as he wrapped you in a tight embrace.

You heard him scream that day, you felt his dust trickle from your fingers.

“I was terrified when you left me.” you felt your bones scrape against each other, and despite your whimpers of pain, he held you tighter.

And, yet, his eyes were still the same vermillion you’d grown to hate.

You felt your spine cave under the pressure of his love. You heard the deafening SNAP that reverberated through your being, and then…

*nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue this. MAYBE.


End file.
